Chapter 9 Kayleigh
KAYLEIGH
I sink into the most comfortable couch I’ve ever had the pleasure of sitting on and spread my legs wide as Elliot kneels before me.
“Take off your shirt,” he says.
I shiver in anticipation. For all the fooling around and teasing, this’ll be the first time I’m completely naked in front of Elliot Bishop.
What if he doesn’t like what he sees? What if the sight of my naked curves disgusts him?
I hate that I feel these insecurities. I thought I was better than this.
“Kayleigh?”
“Can’t you just eat me out like this?”
“I want to see you when I feast on your pussy,” he says. “All of you.”
His words make me brave, and I tug the Garth Brooks shirt over my head, tossing it to the opposite end of the world’s largest sectional.
“Fuck, Kayleigh.” He lifts on his knees, reaching those warm, calloused hands to my breasts. He kneads them gently in his palms, as though he has all day. Never mind that it’s almost midnight again. I try not to think about where he was all day, or who he might have been with.
I’ve never been the jealous type, and I really don’t want to become that person now.
It’s just lust, Kayleigh.
Elliot takes one nipple into his mouth, circling his tongue around the pebbled peak as he pushes apart my thighs. I’m already dripping wet from anticipation. I wonder if it would always be this way, if I were to…stay.
“I really like your horses,” I say as he moves a hand between my legs to spread me open to him.
“From what I hear, they really like you too.”
“What?”
“You think I would leave this ranch without keeping tabs on you, sweetheart?” He moves to the other nipples as a finger lazily strokes its way through my folds. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”
“Maybe we should get a towel. I’m making a mess on your couch—”
“I don’t care.” He inserts a finger inside me, and I nearly go blind. “As long as I’m the one making you so fucking wet, you can make a mess wherever you want.”
“Wherever I want, huh?” I mean to tease, but the words barely escape my throat as a pant because Elliot inserts a second finger into my channel. The way he crooks his fingers has nothing on that excited little dildo with its pointed edge.
“And wherever I want.”
I grip his cheeks, desperate to feel his lips pressed against mine.
For all the times this man has watched me come, I’ve yet to taste his kiss.
I’m desperate for it. But any attempts to drag his face to mine are no match for his determination to move south.
He adjusts me so he can rock those fingers in and out of me while dragging his tongue through my wet folds.
“Oh God,” I moan, my vision already going blurry. “I never want you to stop.”
“I like to savor my desserts, Kay. And this dessert?” He drags his tongue over my clit, locking his heated gaze with mine. “This dessert is a delicacy I plan to enjoy as long as possible.”
I watch as Elliot does exactly what he says. I’ve never experienced pleasure so fucking good. I never want it to stop, which is why, when that pleasure builds, threatening to break the dam inside me, I fight it.
“Let go, Kay,” Elliot insists.
“But—”
“If you think I’m only going to make you come once tonight, you’re sorely mistaken.”
With that promise, I surrender. I let Elliot Bishop take me over the edge, not once, not twice, but three times before he’s done with me. I’m a boneless puddle on his couch when he finally detaches his lips from my pussy. He lifts up again, gripping my chin to turn it toward his.
Finally, he kisses me.
The kiss is hard and punishing, but the taste of me on his tongue is everything.
I reach between his legs, cupping my hand over his rock-hard cock.
“Kay,” he says, my name a whispered warning.
“Please?”
“I’m not going to fuck you, Kay.”
“You said you’re not going to come inside me. So pull out. Use a condom. I don’t care. Just…fuck me, Elliot.”
He kisses me roughly once more, the abrupt departure of his hand jarring.
“Not tonight, sweetheart.”
“What do you plan to do about that weapon of mass destruction in your pants?” I nod to the bulge in his jeans just out of my reach.
“I thought I’d wrap a pair of your panties around my cock until I came all over them.”
My core tingles right back to life. Can you die from too many orgasms? I don’t know, but I’m sure there are worse ways to go. “I want to watch.”
“What?”
“They’re my panties. I want to make sure you’re not abusing them.”
Elliot shakes his head, a smirk flashing across his lips as he stands. His gaze is locked with mine as he yanks a familiar pair of black lace panties from his jeans pocket. It’s the same pair that went missing the night he placed the highest bid on me.
“You carry those around with you all the time?”
“That surprise you?”
“A little.”
“I’ve been saving them for a special occasion.”
He unzips his jeans, pulling out his massive cock.
“No,” I say.
“No?”
“If you’re going to use my panties, you’re getting all the way naked.”
He flashes me a half smile, obeying. “I didn’t know you had such a bossy side, Kay.”
“There’s a lot you’ve yet to learn about me.”
I watch him strip of all his layers, until all his muscled, tattooed glory is on display.
He still stands in front of the couch, just out of reach, a pile of his clothes on the floor next to him.
I could kneel on the cushion and take him into my mouth.
I could suck him until he came deep into my throat.
But then he waves my panties at me, the ones hanging off one finger, reminding me what this show is all about.
He drops into the chair directly across from me, his length standing at attention, and wraps the lace fabric around him.
Wetness drips down my inner thigh at the sight.
I spread my legs wide and place my hand between them. Elliot watches me as he strokes himself with my underwear.
“Fuck me, Kay.”
“I’ve been trying.” My words are lost to a moan, because dammit, I’m pretty sure I’m going to come again watching him pleasure himself.
When I tried to convince myself the BDSM auction wouldn’t be that bad, this is what I imagined.
A bunch of foreplay, maybe a few more restraints, and coming over and over again until my pussy just gave out.
In that fantasy, however, Elliot was always the winning bid.
Even though I never actually expected him to show up.
Max told me why he was there at all, putting all my fears to rest about him being just like every other rich asshole there.
He went to support his best friend, and in turn, saved me from a terrible fate.
I’ve never considered myself a damsel in distress, but if I ever was, Elliot Bishop is the only man I’d ever want coming to my rescue. He’s the only one I trust.
Elliot groans, his face contorting as his strokes grow violent. He’s never once taken his eyes off of me while I’ve been playing with myself.
We come together, from across the room. His cum tangling in my panties, my orgasm messing up the couch a little more.
He flashes me a smug smirk, one that promises he knows exactly the effect he has on me. The effect he’ll always have on me. “You enjoy the show, Kay? Because I sure did.”